


Time in a Bottle

by ConstantConfuse



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Heavy Drinking, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-06-30
Packaged: 2018-02-06 22:21:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1874577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConstantConfuse/pseuds/ConstantConfuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A mission failed, Ezio must now pay the ultimate price.</p>
<p>Another oldie from 2010!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time in a Bottle

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhh man... this one. I'm still kind of fond of this one. BE YE WARNED, there is bad Italian ahead. I did provide the translations at the bottom. They're from when I first posted the fic, so they might be completely wrong. Enjoy~

_Tap tap tap tap!_

The sound of boots on fine Florentine roofs echoed dully through the smoke-filled night.

A black figure hurdled across a gap and stumbled, wheezing for breath. Arrows protruded from his torso, making his breathing even more labored. The shouts of guards screaming after him drove him on. He needed to get away… far, far away…

A screaming pain erupting in the back of his skull caught him by surprise.

He heard a soldier he hadn’t previously noticed sheathe a blade. The very last sound he heard was his heart pounding frantically in his ears. Then, all he knew was blackness…

\---

Ezio’s eyes flew open with a start. He didn’t make a sound, his breathing barely audible. He didn’t recognize where he was, or why he was there. His head throbbed terribly, and his vision continually swam. But, he did realize that his arms were tied above him and going numb, and his hair was loose, falling over his face.

‘That explains why I can barely see anything…’ he thought groggily, perversely amused at himself to be thinking that way.

He shifted and drew a quickly cut off groan of pain from his own throat. God, he _hurt_! What the hell had happened to him…? He looked down vaguely at his chest and froze. On his chest were wounds from arrows and swords. He remembered now…

He had failed…. His target had been ready for him, and still he hadn’t been able to carry out his work.

Now, he was… he could only assume he was waiting. Waiting for his fate…

He shifted again, uncomfortable in his position. He wore only a loose cotton shirt now, along with his pants and belted boots, both covered with blood. He wasn’t sure if it was all or only partly his, but he quit caring as an iron door nearby squealed open, making him jerk.

A finely dressed noble entered, flanked by two guards. The assassin’s eyes narrowed, both glaring and trying to focus his wavery vision on them. Apparently, the man didn’t like the expression on the assassino’s face, since he slapped him hard across the cheek, drawing a startled and pained gasp and making his head spin more fervently.

“F-Figlio d’un cane…”

“Silenzio, assassino,” Ezio’s chin was grabbed forcefully and lifted up, exposing his face to the man, “So, you are Ezio Auditore.” It was no question.

“And if I am?” he growled, golden eyes unfocused.

The noble merely chuckled, “Ah, don’t try to play coy with me, ragazzo. You’ve got quite the price on your head, you know… the Spaniard will be very pleased.”

“…Since you are a templar,” he spat, “Why not just kill me now?!”

“Where would be the fun in that, amico mio?”

Ezio spat in his face and received another harsh slap in return, making him yelp softly.

“Hmph, impudent brat,” the noble wiped his face, glowering at the reeling assassin, “Well, you’ll be out of my hair soon enough… you have an appointment with the gallows tomorrow.”

Ezio felt the blood drain from his face as the noble and his entourage left.

His chest clenched with something he hadn’t felt in a long time, nearly ten years…

He hid his burning eyes behind his hair, “Dio mio, non voglio morire questo modo… non…”

A single, warm tear fell to the stone between his feet.

\---

“Attenzione! Attenzione! The notorious Assassino, Ezio Auditore, has been apprehended here in Firenze! His execution has been scheduled for today at noon at the Piazza della Signoria!”

Leonardo’s blue eyes widened as he passed the herald, stopping to stare before joining the crowd. He listened as further details were given, his stomach growing cold and knotted with anxiety.

‘Dio mio… Ezio, no…!’ Leonardo thought frantically. He’d merely returned to Firenze to acquire a few things to bring back to Venezia with him, but to hear this…! He glanced skyward, checking the position of the sun. It was still early morning… surely a crowd was already gathering, eager for a glance at the last Auditore. He had to hurry.

He hurried to drop his things back at his workshop before he nearly ran through the crowds towards the square.

\---

Ezio stood proudly on the gallows. He’d been fetched from the Palazzo della Signoria mere moments ago, it seemed, and now… Now he got to share the view his father and brothers had seen, ten long years ago.

Quite the crowd had gathered to watch the execution, jostling each other and making a racket. Ezio made sure not to look at them. He was secretly afraid that if he did, his façade would crack. His hands quivered behind his back where they were tied, betraying his fear.

He was pushed further towards the woven hemp ropes by an armed guard, and he staggered closer, glaring over his shoulder. His insides clenched as the noose was placed around his neck and tightened. He chanced a glance down and saw where he would drop. He allowed himself one barely audible gulp, then returned his impassive stare to the crowd.

The fluttering of a familiar cape caught his eye, and he glanced over, shocked.

There, in the crowd, stood Leonardo da Vinci, panting and pale, face drawn with utter grief. His throat closed as his mind stopped as well. What was Leonardo doing here…?! His face dropped to the wood beneath his feet in shame. He hadn’t even noticed that the executioner had starting shouting, reciting his offenses. He lifted his head again, tilting it back, swallowing down a hard lump of mixed emotions.

“Any last words?!” the man cried.

Ezio glanced at him, silently, before looking back at the crowd. His eyes focused on Leonardo, and he smiled a profoundly saddened smile, his voice full of strong emotion, “Sicurezza e la pace, il mio amore.”

He barely even registered the lever being pulled.

\---

Leonardo released an involuntary cry as he watched Ezio fall, his hands clapping over his mouth. He fought back a sob, trying hard to not lose face in public. Already, tears were streaming down his face. He couldn’t tear his eyes from the taut rope and the barely visible head of the now-dead assassin. He could see Ezio’s booted feet beneath the gallows from where he was, the crowd now starting to disperse.

He could take no more. Biting down hard on his hand to keep from wailing, he turned tail and ran as hard as he could for his workshop. Ezio’s final words were ringing in his ears as he barreled through a clump of people, deaf to their shouts of protest.

Over and over they played… he called him his love, but how could that be? Ezio had never shown any interest! Of course, Leonardo had indulged in many thoughts and even fantasies about the younger man, but he’d kept them as that, never escalating their relationship past friends. Knowing Ezio had loved him as well wracked his heart with longing and guilt.

Now, it was too late…

He reached his workshop, flinging open the door and retreating inside, slamming it shut again. Leonardo slipped to the floor, back against the wood of his door. Finally, he let his grief go. He broke into wracking sobs and cries of anguish, loss and grief. People could hear the muffled sound from outside, but no one stopped to inquire of the artisan, seeing it best to leave him be.

\---

The setting sun found Leonardo curled in a corner, nursing a bottle of potent wine. His forehead rested on his knees, which were damp from tears that kept coming back, no matter how hard he tried to drown them. He was dully surprised Salai hadn’t come hunting for him yet, but the thought was gone as quickly as it came.

He reached for the bottle, missed, and then tried again, successfully grasping it and taking another strong swig. His stomach was already complaining loudly from the excess of alcohol in it, and his throat burned where the wine touched.

Honestly, he didn’t care. Somebody could’ve set fire to either workshops and he wouldn’t have cared in the slightest. He knew drowning himself like this was pointless, and Ezio would not have wanted this, but those feelings perversely fueled his wallowing. He clutched his knees and choked back a drunken sob, “Perché avete lasciato me, il mio amore…? Perché… Dio, quando ho bisogno di te…” he’d begun to cry anew as he slurred to himself.

A knock at his door made him jump so bad he almost knocked over his precious wine. He grumbled an incoherent “Coming…” to the patron outside his door before using the nearby table to haul himself unceremoniously to his feet. He staggered, knocking a few things over as he went towards the door. He hit it with a grunt and tried to push it opened before he remembered he had to pull.

When he opened it, Mario Auditore and the Theives’ Guild leader, Antonio, were standing outside his door, faces pale and drawn. It took him a moment of drunken swaying and much squinting before he even slightly recognized either of them, having only met Mario briefly and he remembered Antonio from when Ezio had taken his flying machine for a test flight.

“M-Messere Auditore…?” he slurred, “Antonio? What brings you both t-to my humble… humble workshop?”

“Ser da Vinci…” Antonio started, “… i-is it true? Is Ezio really…?”

Leonardo’s throat closed for a second and he leaned heavily on the doorframe, turning his face to hide it from them both, “S-Sí… I… I was…” he couldn’t stop the sob that shook his body.

Mario and Antonio invited themselves in, and Leonardo was grateful for it. Neither of them missed the heavy scent of alcohol on the artisan’s breath; Antonio sat Leonardo on a bench while Mario pressed a glass of water into his trembling hands. Leonardo held the slightly cool clay to his forehead, tears streaming past clenched eyes once more. He sipped some of the water and set the cup down. He hadn’t been expecting to be pulled into the arms of the mercenary and given a comforting hug, the kind a father would give a son… or an uncle to a nephew…

Leonardo’s tears redoubled and he wept his grief again, this time into the shoulder of a comrade. All three men took comfort in each other.

But, the question still loomed; how would they progress now, with their most beloved and valuable member with his family in Paradise…?

They would come to that when they got there.

**Author's Note:**

> Italian translations (sorry if it's off, I used a translator.) :  
> assasino- assassin  
> Figlio d'un cane- son of a bitch  
> silenzio- silence  
> ragazzo- boy  
> amico mio- my friend  
> Dio mio, non voglio morire questo modo… non…- My God, I don't want to die... not like this...  
> attenzione- attention  
> Sicurezza e la pace, il mio amore- Safety and Peace, my love  
> Perché avete lasciato me, il mio amore…? Perché… Dio, quando ho bisogno di te…- Why did you leave me, my love...? Why... when I needed you the most...


End file.
